


Wild Card

by winterwaters



Series: Aces [3]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff, Smut, Weddings, a lot of talking and then a lot of sex basically, they just couldn't wait
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-19
Updated: 2015-07-19
Packaged: 2018-04-10 03:27:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4375403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winterwaters/pseuds/winterwaters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke can't imagine waiting even one more night now that she knows Bellamy Blake returns her affection. So what if they're at a family wedding?</p><p>(Picks up right after Show Your Cards.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wild Card

**Author's Note:**

> So this universe pulled one more part out of me before I retreat into my hole to greet finals. Switched POVs to Clarke a bit to explore her thoughts as well. Really hope you enjoy! :)

“Are you seriously going to make me wait another night?” Clarke asked, incredulous.

Bellamy cocked an eyebrow, his arm still firmly around her waist and her hand still curled into the lapels of his shirt. They stood wedged in the corner of the elevator, unable to stop stealing extra kisses despite their already swollen mouths.

“In case you’ve forgotten, I’ve been waiting much longer than one night,” he said.

"Who says I haven’t?" The words flew out before she could stop them. Bellamy’s face was a mixture of surprise and intrigue, and she blushed, staring at the doors instead of his handsome face. In the reflection, she could see him still watching her, his brow furrowed in thought. He also appeared rather thrilled, and damn if that wasn't stirring her blood ten ways to Sunday.

"Besides, I see that as even more of a reason not to delay,” she said eventually, sending him a petulant glance. The elevator chimed at their floor.

He only grinned and kissed her forehead as they headed into the hall, swiping the keycard to enter their room. She couldn’t exactly help the jolt of excitement that ran through her at the sight of their huge hotel mattress, so empty and inviting… 

_We are_ so _using that bed tonight._

“Are we now?” 

Her head whipped around to find Bellamy smirking in amusement as he toed off his shoes. Clarke’s face overheated even worse. Okay, she hadn’t meant to say _that_ out loud, but whatever, they were both thinking it right?

She tried to remain casual. “I’ve never had sex in a hotel bed, but I’ve heard it’s pretty awesome. Have you?”

His voice sounded rather pained when he replied, “No.”

“So this sounds like a prime opportunity for... what was that phrase you like so much?” Grinning, Clarke plopped herself on the covers cross-legged. “Oh yeah, killing two birds with one stone."

Bellamy stood stiffly by the dresser, eyes occasionally darting over to her and then back down at his feet. Clarke couldn’t stop looking at him. His tie was all askew after their rather hectic makeout session on the beach, sleeves rolled to his elbows and shirt half untucked from his slacks where she’d tried to sneak underneath to graze those taut muscles.

But her favorite was the wild disarray of curls atop his head. Her fault, after the amount of times her hands had raked through it. She’d found out quickly that it was something he liked - if the way he sucked a little harder on her neck was any indication - and she was more than happy to oblige. 

“Clarke.” Bellamy’s groan made her eyes lift upwards from where she’d been staring at his hands a little too longingly. What? He had fantastic, talented hands.

“You gotta stop looking at me like that,” he begged.

“Or what?”

He covered his face, making another strangled noise in his throat. Clarke couldn’t help but laugh. “Bell, come on. You don’t have to be so serious. It’s me.”

“That’s the point,” he said firmly, voice still muffled into his hands. “It’s _you._ You should… you deserve the best.” 

It was so hard to argue with him when he was being a sweetheart. Clarke rose and padded over to him, sliding her arms around him in a hug. His arms linked behind her back as he looked down at her.

“In case you missed it,” she murmured, “my idea of the best is you.”

Bellamy smiled then, joyful and longing. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, silly.” She kissed the base of his throat, where his pulse jumped.

He sighed and hugged her close, resting his head atop hers. “I just want to do this right, that’s all. And that doesn’t involve your entire extended family being within hearing range.”

“Did you not see that open bar at dinner? They probably don’t know up from down at this point.” Clarke grinned slyly. “And anyways I really wouldn’t mind if they heard me a little bit.”

“You’re going to be the death of me, woman.”

She giggled a little, then drew back to see his face. “You’ve thought about this before, haven’t you?” She asked thoughtfully.

He swallowed, clearly nervous, but nodded. Then it was his turn to fix her with a curious look. 

“Have you?”

Of course she had. She was only human after all. And in the beginning it had been more wishful thinking on her part, getting a little too enamored after sitting in on his lecture one day, enjoying his proximity while they cooked dinner, unofficially cuddling while watching another one of his documentaries. Even something mundane like grocery shopping was more fun with Bellamy. And then he’d so enthusiastically taken to being her “boyfriend” during her dad’s visit that she’d started to wonder, looking for other small clues. When she had an inkling that her feelings might be even slightly reciprocated… yeah, her fantasies had taken on an entirely new light.

She couldn’t say all that quite yet, so she just nodded shyly, playing with a button on his shirt.

“Good to know,” Bellamy said softly. The heat in his voice set off goosebumps on her skin, and he tilted her chin up. His mouth descended on hers. He kissed slowly, luxuriously, like he’d be content to kiss her forever, and even she had to admit she wouldn’t mind spending hour after hour like this, held securely in his arms, her mouth locked with his like there was no end.

When they finally broke apart, a small protest flew past her teeth before she could stop it, and Bellamy’s grin was far too confident as he bent to kiss the spot behind her ear that drove her insane. His teeth grazed gently at first, then more firmly as she tilted her head and urged him on with a wordless murmur. It was a little embarrassing how much she liked the thought of seeing the mark the next day-- how much she wanted to attach her lips to his skin and return the favor.

“Oh! Wait!” She put her hands on his chest, and he lifted his head. “Um… no- no hickeys above my shoulders. We still have to go to the wedding tomorrow, and I only have so much makeup.”

He chuckled and nodded. “Fair enough.” His eyes gleamed as they traveled down her body. “I can find other spots.”

She shivered agreeably, leaning up again to capture his lips until they were both panting. “Does this mean you’re not going to make me wait after all?”

His mouth lifted at the corners, but he didn’t answer. Clarke propped a hand on her hip. “If you’re that worried about the noise, there’s always the shower.”

“What?” Bellamy scowled, affronted. “No! Our first time is _not_ going to--”

She laughed, her palm coming up to cover his mouth. “No, I meant, we can turn it on. We don’t have to use it." _Yet._ "The water will drown out a lot of stuff.”

He gave a muffled noise of approval. Then his expression turned mischievous as he kissed her hand. “Put a lot of thought into this, have you princess?”

“Shut up.” She smacked his chest, blushing furiously. “I’m just throwing out options here. So that we don’t have to wait another 24 hours or have an unfortunate accident while driving.”

Bellamy paled a little, eyes widening. “Jesus, Clarke.”

“I’m just saying…”

She yelped as he swept her into his arms, clinging to his shoulders as he strode to the bed. He took a seat with her firmly ensconced in his lap, and she bit back her sigh. She could already feel his arousal underneath her, and if she wriggled just a little--

Bellamy slid a big hand up her thigh, pausing several inches past the hem of her dress. He didn’t do anything else, just left his hand there grasping her skin, and just the weight and warmth of it was enough to make her rub her legs together and hide her face in his shoulder as a tiny whine escaped. She felt his lips curve by her ear, pleased.

“I love that,” he murmured. “I love all the little sounds you make. I want to know everything about you,” he sighed.

The yearning in his voice only fueled her own desire, and yet at the same time it was unbearably sweet, making her want to curl up with him.

"Right back at you," she whispered.

They sat like that for a full minute, her tracing absent patterns into the material of his shirt while occasionally peeking upwards. He was staring past her shoulder, at something only he could see, and she smiled to herself. This was his thinking face, when his mind took over and he had to just halt everything until every cell in his body was okay with whatever decision he came to. That was how Bellamy did everything - completely and devotedly. She was so, so, head over heels for him.

“Alright,” Bellamy said. His face set in determination as he cradled her cheek. “If we do this, we take it slow. Do things right. I meant what I said earlier, Clarke. I’m all in.”

“1000 percent,” she agreed with a happy smile.

He nodded, mirroring her smile as he leaned down to kiss her gently. “Okay. But first… there’s just one thing I’ve been dying to know,” he said sheepishly.

Clarke studied him for a moment, trying to figure it out. “It’s about the soup, isn’t it?” She asked finally.

He barked out a small laugh, nodding. “It’s been killing me the whole week.”

It was easier to explain it to his collar. “So, I went to Monty, because he’d mentioned that his mom was a great cook and had all these great recipes. We Skyped one evening and he showed me how to make the noodles step by step. I didn’t want to be weird and tell him to keep it a secret, and plus I figured he wouldn’t see you for a while anyways.” She smiled ruefully. “Totally forgot about Miller. Who, of course, couldn’t wait to dance into my apartment while I was making the whole pot.”

Bellamy nuzzled her cheek, peppering kisses along her skin until she finally looked up at him. “That was the best soup I ever had,” he declared, “and you know I’m not lying because I distinctly remember saying that after the first bite.”

“Yes you did,” she said smugly. It had taken everything in her power not to tell the world then and there, but telling Raven later had been enough. Even if her friend had teased her for days on end.

“So how’d you get Miller to keep his trap shut for this long?”

She shrugged. “Threatened to spill his best-kept secrets to his dear boyfriend.”

“But you don’t know any of his secrets.”

“He didn’t know that. And I guess I was pretty convincing when I said I’d get them out of you somehow.”

Bellamy threw his head back and laughed. “Sneaky princess.”

Clarke stuck out her tongue, and then thought of something else. “Speaking of the dynamic duo, I believe we need to post at least one picture to keep up my reputation on Instagram.” She scrambled for her phone, kind of in love with how Bellamy couldn’t keep his hands off her the entire time, laying idle kisses along her bare shoulder and back and nearly making her give up and sink into the mattress. 

Finally her hand closed around her phone and she sat back, turning on the camera. “Alright, you have to look at least marginally happy,” she instructed. He grunted.

Holding the camera up, she pointed to the lower right corner. “Look there.” At the last second, she made a silly face, hoping to pull a true smile from him. It kind of worked, though the flash went off sooner than she’d have liked.

“Bellll, come _on,”_ she whined.

“Fine, fine. Again.”

This time it was him who surprised her, ducking to bury his face in her neck before the _click._ Clarke’s head tilted back automatically, her hand coming up to twist into his hair as the flash went off. She flushed red just looking at the thumbnail. _That one’s just for me,_ she decided. 

“One more. Be nice,” she admonished. Bellamy grinned. She held up the phone once more, this time setting the timer a little extra long. Unable to help herself, she turned and planted a wet, smacking kiss on his cheek.

Laughing, she checked the picture and threw her hands in the air at the sight of his brilliant smile. “Yes! I win!” 

He didn’t seem the least bit concerned, simply tucking his chin on her shoulder. “Whatever you say, princess.”

Clarke uploaded the picture to her account, at the last minute adding the caption _wedding date._ Her finger hovered over the ‘post’ button. 

Twisting her head, she asked, “You sure you don’t mind?”

Bellamy smiled blindingly. He closed his hand over hers, pressing down, and she heard the small sound signaling success as he kissed her again. She dropped the phone somewhere in the covers and turned fully, their lips still sealed together as he fell back on the mattress, pulling her with him. His hands roamed her back, occasionally catching in her hair, once or twice squeezing her backside, and she arched into him with a breathy moan, her own hands scrabbling at his shoulders for purchase. 

Somewhere on the bed, she vaguely registered her phone beeping.

“No,” Bellamy gasped against her pulse.

She could only nod, too preoccupied by his solid body under hers, trying to figure out how to get his clothing off without having to separate their bodies. 

Until his phone vibrated in his pocket, dangerously close to the spot between her thighs that was aching the most, and she bit his shoulder so she wouldn’t cry out at just how good that had felt. His fingers flexed unsteadily on her hip, a harsh breath against her ear. Trembling a little, she lifted up enough for him to reach for his phone. His eyes remained on hers, telling her he hadn’t missed her reaction at all, and they were totally going to revisit that at some point. 

She wanted to bury her head into the pillows until they swallowed her whole.

Then Bellamy laughed - but not at her. “You need to check Instagram. Trust me.”

Curiously, Clarke felt around until she found her phone, immediately opening the app. Bellamy curled an arm around her back, urging her to lie down next to him. Snuggling into his side, she held out the phone so they could both see the screen.

Her jaw dropped as she saw the string of comments now attached to the picture she’d posted only minutes ago.

 **blake4life:** _WHAT IS THIS????_

 **mintyfresh:** _Yesss! Pay up, bf._

 **natethegreat:** _Come on, dude. You couldn’t wait one more day?_

 **blake4life:** _SERIOUSLY SOMEONE TELL ME WHAT IS HAPPENING_

 **icanfixthat:** _Not our fault you left us to gallivant in Europe with your hot bf, blake jr. Clarke-- took you long enough._

 **blake4life:** _YOU ARE ALL DEAD TO ME._

Both Clarke and Bellamy were snickering by the time they scrolled through the messages. “I’m guessing that was Octavia blowing up your phone?” She asked.

“But of course. Oh, look, now she’s calling.”

Clarke leaned over and plucked the phone from his hand, ignoring his wide eyes. “Hey O,” she answered cheerily. 

There was a pause - as Octavia rethought whatever she was about to yell - and then, “Clarke?”

“In the flesh. How’s Europe?”

“Don’t _how’s Europe_ me, lady!!” The screech blasted through the speaker, sending Clarke into giggles. “Why do you have Bell’s phone? Is everything okay? What the hell was with that picture and _that caption???”_

“Everything’s great, I have his phone because I took it from him, and he’s lying in bed next to me.”

“EEWWWW. _Clarke!”_

“What? We’re fully clothed, get your mind out of the gutter, O,” Clarke’s laugh turned into a yelp as Bellamy pinched her side, shaking his head. 

“I am going to throttle both of you when I get back in two weeks, I swear to god--”

There was a muffled struggle, and then a much calmer, “Hey Clarke.”

“Lincoln, hi! How’s Europe? What country are you guys in today?”

“France. We’re headed to the Eiffel Tower and then the Louvre tonight, and then hopefully to Spain tomorrow.”

“That’s amazing! Take pictures, please, I need to live vicariously through you.”

“We will.” He paused, and after a hushed conversation, sighed. “She’s requesting that you put the call on speaker.”

Clarke grinned and pressed the button. “Done.”

_”BELL!”_

“I know you’re across the ocean, O, but you don’t have to yell.” 

“You didn’t say anything about a wedding! Spill!”

“It was kind of last minute,” Clarke jumped in. “My mom was supposed to go but something came up, so she asked me to go instead. Your brother volunteered to be my white knight and come as my date.”

_”And????”_

Clarke bit her lip, glancing up at Bellamy, who grinned. _”And,”_ he drew out the pause excrutiatingly, “I will now be taking Clarke on our first date this week.”

They both flinched as Octavia’s ear-splitting shriek resounded through the speaker, followed by “Did you hear that, Lincoln? Reyes owes me big tiiiiiime.” 

“Hang on,” Clarke protested, “when did you all start taking bets?”

“Oh please. It was all about timing, not about whether it would actually happen. Obviously it was going to happen.”

“Obviously,” Bellamy drawled, rolling his eyes at Clarke. “Alright look, now that you’ve interrogated us to your heart’s content and have probably racked up a phone bill higher than my third-story apartment, can we promise to take you to dinner when you get back and call it a night?”

“Keep posting on Instagram. I need to see you in full wedding attire,” she demanded.

“Bye,” Bellamy shouted, and ended the call.

They laid there chuckling for several moments, especially after Octavia posted yet another string of comments to the picture, starting with _CONFIRMATION, IT’S REAL_ that soon set the others off as well.

“Well. Now we’ve done it,” Clarke giggled. 

“Good, it’ll give them something to talk about and stop bothering us.” Bellamy wiggled his eyebrows, leaning over to kiss her with a grin. “Though, I do have one question. Final one, I promise.”

“Shoot.”

“Why did Raven say, ‘about time’ to you?” 

Oh. That. Clarke shifted, trying to figure out where to start. Bellamy remained quiet, only lacing his fingers with hers until she’d gathered her thoughts.

“So, I know my reaction to… everything, earlier, made it sound like I’ve never thought about this. About us. But that’s not entirely true.” She sat up a little, keeping hold of his hand. “What weirded me out before was just that… that I acted without thinking. That happens a lot more than I’d like to admit around you. But today was the first time that I gave in to what I wanted. And that threw me off balance.”

She took a deep breath. “I figured out a little while ago that I didn’t just see you as a friend anymore. The only problem was I didn’t know what that meant, or what to do with it. I thought maybe I could just…”

“Ignore it,” Bellamy supplied. When she met his eyes, he offered an understanding smile. “I thought the same at first too.”

“Yeah. That didn’t last long. And then… Raven kept saying I was being blind and I should pay more attention, so I did. And I started to wonder if maybe you were trying to tell me something too.” She smiled and kissed his fingertips. “So, anyways. That’s what she meant.”

Bellamy’s entire demeanor had softened as she spoke. “C’mere,” he whispered, and she slid back down and into his arms, laying her cheek on his shirt. His hand trailed up and down her spine in a lazy caress.

“So when you woke up earlier in the room and kissed me, what were you thinking?”

She fiddled with his tie, retracing the memory in her mind. “I… I wasn’t dreaming, but I wasn’t fully awake either. I just knew you were beside me, and that I liked waking up next to you. Actually, I thought it was morning, which is why I k--”

Clarke stopped abruptly, flushing at what she’d just given away. Even though she hadn’t finished the thought, he would put two and two together in no time. 

Sure enough, there was a smile in his voice when he said, “Interesting.”

“Okay that’s not fair, that was a total gimme. Now you need to tell me something about you.”

“What do you want to know?”

 _Everything._ “Well. To start with, are you a morning person?”

“I totally could be, if it involves you.” 

“Let’s just assume that everything involves me moving forward,” she said a little sharply, and he lifted onto his elbow, grinning down at her before nosing her cheek fondly.

“I like it when you get all possessive like that,” he murmured.

Even though she reddened, she replied, “Says the man who plans to leave hickeys everywhere.”

Bellamy was unfazed. “I’m not denying it.” 

Clarke laughed and yanked his head down, slanting her lips against his and sighing contentedly as he began to shift his full weight atop her. Her legs fell open, inviting him to settle in the cradle of her hips without even thinking. He fit so perfectly she could only moan a little and rock upwards, wanting to feel every inch of their bodies align.

Then Bellamy shot up without warning, nearly giving her whiplash. She pulled herself up beside him, grabbing his hand in question. He looked at her, stricken.

“I just realized… I don’t have-- uh, I’m not, that is, I didn’t bring any…” 

Color rose in his cheeks as he fumbled for words. Clarke stared. She’d never seen Bellamy so flustered. It was quite unfairly adorable. After a minute, she figured out what he was trying to say.

He stopped stammering as soon as the snort of laughter left her mouth. His expression twisted into a pout, and that only made her laugh harder as she collapsed back onto the pillows, clutching her stomach.

“Look at you, so serious,” she gasped. “You’d think the world was about to end.”

The pout deepened, and he poked her side. “Hey, come on. It _is_ serious, Clarke. I don’t want to just assume anything. How am I supposed to know about your… habits?”

Clarke’s giggles finally ceased, and she tugged at his arm until he was hovering over her, braced on his elbows. “You are, without a doubt, the cutest thing ever.” She smiled, searching his eyes. “I’m on the pill. I haven’t been with anyone in… a while. And… I don’t really plan to be with anyone other than you.”

Bellamy’s somber expression faded into tenderness, and he fit his mouth to hers long and hard.

Afterwards, she couldn’t help but tease. “If it’s going to bother you that much though, we can try to find a CVS somewhere around here. But I can’t guarantee I won’t jump you in the car.”

“What is it with you and cars?” He asked, laughing. Before she could answer that it was the _man_ and not the location, his eyes narrowed. “Have you ever…?”

“No,” she said quickly. “Never. You?” He shook his head, and she felt her own flash of silly relief. 

“So is it just something you’ve want to try?” He asked curiously.

“Not really. It was never particularly appealing until now.”

He tilted his head. “Why’s that?”

Clarke shrugged, a bit bashful. “You. Everything already sounds a hundred times better with you in the picture.”

Bellamy stared down at her, those familiar dark eyes filled with such hope and yes, disbelief, that she could only smile, wanting him to see the truth in her face. A wonderfully happy grin stretched at his mouth, mesmerizing her. Then he closed his eyes and touched his forehead to hers, like he was just trying to absorb the entirety of the moment.

“Shit,” he breathed, “I’m so--” He swallowed and tried again. “I’m crazy about you.”

“I think we’ve established that it’s mutual.” She leaned up to kiss the corner of his mouth, the crease in his chin, the bridge of his nose, until his lips joined with hers once more, and this time there was no question for either of them as their tongues met, tangling eagerly. Bellamy finally lowered atop her until she was fit snugly between his hard body and the mattress, and that sensation alone nearly had her eyes rolling backwards as he mouthed at her neck for an inordinate amount of time.

It took effort, but she resumed her quest from earlier and began tugging at his shirt once more, her fingers hurrying to get the buttons off and frustrated when they seemed neverending.

“No more button-ups,” she grumbled, and he chuckled into her shoulder before leaning back to shrug it off, pulling his t-shirt off right after. 

Clarke sat up quickly, running her hands up his defined torso and over the grooves of his back, lightly scraping her nails and grinning when he jerked in surprise. She pressed forward to leave an open-mouthed kiss above his navel before slowly trailing a path up his sternum, tongue wandering along his warm skin.

Halfway through, Bellamy’s hands grabbed her shoulders and hauled her up until their lips crashed together. He plundered her mouth with single-minded determination, as if silently promising his tongue was going to explore her similarly everywhere, and the thought made her teeter unsteadily. Bellamy simply grasped her thighs and pulled her atop him as he sat back, refusing to unlock their mouths. 

She settled over him easily, her knees astride his waist, and god, yes, that was much better. A whimper worked its way out of her throat as his erection nudged at her clearly wet underwear, making her slicker than ever. His hands were still wrapped firmly around her thighs, and now they slid higher to cup her backside, urging her movement. Clarke gasped into his mouth, grinding down on him desperately, the friction making everything else fade away until all she could feel was the throbbing between her legs.

She was so distracted by it that she didn’t notice Bellamy’s hands scrabbling at her dress until he drew back entirely, frowning. “Where the hell is the zipper,” he muttered, and she choked off a laugh, leaning in for a swift kiss before moving off him to stand, a little wobbly. 

Raising her right arm, she reached for the zipper hidden in the fabric, easing it down. She was very aware of his eyes on her as she pushed the dress down to pool at her feet, suddenly thankful for the semi-attractive undergarments she’d packed at the last minute. Bellamy’s quiet exhale reached her ears, but she couldn’t quite meet his eyes yet. 

It was a strange sort of shyness that hit her now, somehow leaving her feeling more exposed even though she still had her bra and panties on.

She was frozen to the spot, a flush prickling over her skin as she felt his gaze sweep from head to toe. Then Bellamy pulled himself to the edge of the bed, holding out his hands. Smiling, Clarke stepped into the vee of his legs, their fingers weaving together. When she finally peeked up, the look on his face stole her breath.

He didn’t say a word; he didn’t have to. Just touched his lips to her hip, her ribs, her belly button, each kiss as delicate as the one before it. He continued in that patient manner, lips skating from point to point like trying to map out a constellation right then and there, until she smiled and just hugged him for a long moment, letting out a small breath against his neck.

They tipped backwards onto the bed once more, kissing and kissing as Bellamy’s hands wandered the expanse of her bare back, finally pausing at the clasp of her bra. She nodded, moving to suck at a chord of muscle in his shoulder before following the taut line of his pecs. Goosebumps tickled her skin as her bra fell away, replaced by inquisitive hands. His mouth soon joined them, hot and wet and lazy, and she shuddered and pressed closer as he flipped them them over again, the sheets cool against her back. She distractedly tugged at his pants, with zero help from him, haphazardly managing to push them down with her heels what felt like an eternity later.

Two long fingers drifted downwards, dipping into the warmth between her legs. They both cursed at once, Clarke with her eyes shut tight because _fuck_ that felt amazing. 

“Jesus, Clarke.” Bellamy’s breath was ragged against her skin.

“Don’t stop,” she begged.

“Hell no,” he said hoarsely, and she almost laughed, except then he tapped her cheek, and when she opened her eyes he looked rather hesitant. “Can I… do you mind if…” He gave up all finesse and said, “I want to taste you.”

A shudder rippled through her body. “Really?” 

“Yeah. Is that okay?”

She nodded, a little frantic, and he smiled and lowered his head, lips sliding across her skin and definitely leaving some of those marks he’d promised, lingering until she could barely see straight. He peeled her underwear off, dropping gentle kisses along her legs as he went. Finally he shouldered her thighs apart, making room for him to settle between, and she had to crane her neck up, all the breath leaving her at the sight of him stretched out atop the sheets, his mouth inches from her flesh.

Bellamy was smiling something wicked as he leaned forward to nose the soft curls at her apex, and she dropped her head back to the pillow with a strangled sigh. He started off slow, giving experimental licks to her outer folds and pausing to watch her reactions. Her legs struggled not to clamp shut around his head, and though it was a losing battle, his hands firm along her hips sort of steadied her.

Then he became more vigorous, taking long fat licks up her slit that made her moan helplessly, her hips rising to keep the contact even as he backed off. Clarke twisted her fingers into the sheets, her other hand cupping her breast, thumb flicking over the hard bud. Bellamy’s groan rumbled into her cunt and made her jump. She cracked her eyes open to see him fixated on her chest, and the hand at her breast became more active, squeezing the flesh until her back arched.

That seemed to be what broke him, and suddenly his mouth was fully on her cunt, tongue writhing deep inside her as he ate her out, humming appreciatively when her hand left the sheets to fist in his hair. He didn’t bother trying to stop her hips from rotating now, simply shifting his hands to her ass to lift her slightly as he buried his face even deeper between her thighs.

Clarke thrashed uncontrollably when his nose butted up against her clit, and he took the hint and closed his lips over it, sucking and licking until she came apart with his name flying out of her mouth, lost in the waves of pleasure.

When she finally remembered how to breathe again, she forced her eyes open to find Bellamy still licking softly at her, his head trapped between her legs where they’d crossed behind his back. “Sorry,” she muttered weakly, unraveling them. Her hand stroked over his hair as he moved back up to find her lips.

“Don’t be. That was insanely hot,” he said, and she huffed out a laugh, still trying to calm her pulse. That failed as soon as he kissed her, the taste of herself on his lips nothing but a turn on that revved her body back up in no time.

The brush of cloth against her oversensitive skin made her realize he still had his briefs on. That had to be painful, she thought, noting the rounded head of his cock pushing through the material. Her fingers hooked under his waistband, impatiently shoving until he kicked them off. The thick shaft jutted up against his stomach, the tip already pearling with fluid.

She may or may not have licked her lips.

Bellamy let out a strained laughed against her cheek, wetly kissing her jaw. He didn’t miss a thing, clearly. She blushed a little, even as her hand reached down to wrap around him, reveling in the bliss that crossed his face, his jaw going slack. The moan that left his mouth just seconds later when she gave a tug was even better. She kept at it, twisting her wrist here, squeezing a bit harder there, fascinated by his loss of control.

“Clarke, wait.” She let him push her hand away, though couldn’t resist bringing her fingers to her lips for a quick moment. He stared, eyes wide and heated, and she smirked. 

“What? You got a taste. I wanted mine.” 

His astonished laugh rang into her ears as he kissed her roughly. Her hands settled on his lower back, trying to align their bodies. It was her turn to let out a strangled moan as his blunt head rubbed up against her cunt. He was big, no doubt, but only in the way that made her want him inside her as soon as possible.

“Thought you’d want to be on top,” he mumbled, biting down on her pulse.

“Next time,” she managed. 

Grinning, he kissed his way back to her lips. “I like the sound of that.”

He didn’t tease, just dropped his forehead to hers, arms resting on either side of her head as he pushed inside slowly, his breath coming in uneven pants. Their eyes caught and held as he stretched her inch by inch, her nails indenting his skin. When it became too much, she dug her heels into his ass, a satisfied moan leaving her lips when he buried himself deep.

“Clarke.” Bellamy’s whisper made her eyes open again. “I-... I’m-” He couldn’t find the words. But he was looking at her like she was something precious, and she suddenly needed to make sure he knew that this wasn’t one-sided at all, not by a longshot.

She laid her palm flat against his cheek, smiling. “I know. Me too, Bell.” 

For a few seconds, the overwhelming nature of the moment took them both. Bellamy kissed her, sweet at first as he moved his hips too slowly for her liking. She solved that quickly by meeting his thrust with a swivel of her hips, moaning into his mouth at the jolt that ran through her, and then it was just a clash of tongue and teeth and breath as she opened her legs wider, welcoming the delicious rhythm. Nothing existed except the two of them, the way his cheek was pressed to hers, the weight of him as he moved, his lips tasting the sweat on her skin, her hands trying to touch every part of him at once.

Then Bellamy became a bit more frantic, hips driving downwards, and she called his name, planting a hand against the wall for leverage as she fought to meet him, legs hitching high above his ass. Her cunt tingled as Bellamy whispered encouragement, and the only other sound in the room beside her shallow breaths was the wet slap of flesh meeting over and over. She came hard, keening helplessly as she flooded around his cock. Bellamy gasped and muffled his groan into her neck, shaking. Clarke didn’t even know what she murmured into his ear, a hand carding through his damp hair as she urged him to his release, leaving sloppy kisses down the side of his face. With a final thrust, he sank so deep enough that they both grunted, and she bit down on the curve of his shoulder as he unraveled.

He struggled to lift up to his elbows, but Clarke just curled her arms around his back and quietly hummed “Stay,” so he laid his head on her chest with a sigh, smiling at her small purr of satisfaction.

A few minutes later he did pull out, both of them wincing a little, before digging around in his bag for washcloths. After they cleaned up, she found his discarded t-shirt and wriggled into it with a contented sigh. Bellamy stopped at the side of the bed, smiling, until she held out her arms. He crawled back in, tucking her into his side.

“You should wear only this from now on,” he said, voice already slurring with sleep.

Clarke grinned and kissed his chin. “Somehow I don’t think that would go over very well at the wedding.” She watched a corner of his mouth lift crookedly. “Besides, I’d rather keep this between us.”

One eye opened. “I like that,” he said softly. “Us.”

She kissed him soundly, snuggling closer. “Me too.” 

~~~~~~~~

Waking up was a bit disorienting at first, finding her body crushed up against Bellamy’s naked form. That was, until the memories returned in haste, and then she was urging him from sleep as well with wandering hands and lips that soon had them both kicking away the covers to come together. 

"My turn," she said, grinning and shoving him to his back. His chuckle cut off abruptly when she sank down without warning, her body welcoming him with little maneuvering. Clarke sighed and began to move, Bellamy's hoarse whispers of encouragement echoing into the dark. He didn’t make any move to remove her shirt, a note she held onto for later. Instead, he slipped his hands under it, spreading over her ribcage before rising to hold her breasts, and when his fingers occasionally pinched her nipples she began to ride him faster, the tension coiling deep and fast. He met her thrust for thrust, hips pistoning at an angle that made her certain she could see her skull at one point.

Then Bellamy sat up, a large hand splaying on her back and the other banded around her waist. Clarke gasped at the change in position, hands clutching at his shoulders, as her hips began to move erratically, chasing her release. 

“That's it. Right there, babe, you feel so good,” she breathed. Bellamy moaned, grabbing her hips hard enough to bruise, his thrusts becoming reckless. To her absolute delight, he came first, his face buried between her breasts through the thin shirt. She thought she caught a declaration of love somewhere in his garbled speech, and that made her smile widely even though she had no intention of asking him to repeat it at the moment.

He didn’t give her much time to dwell, lying back and pulling her up to straddle his face, not wasting a second before dipping his tongue inside her hot and heavy. Clarke’s hips swiveled madly and she panted above him, falling apart when she happened to look down and see his eyes closed in bliss as he licked his own lips.

It took her a few minutes to move off him, boneless as she was, and quite frankly he didn't seem to mind. She collapsed beside him, sidling under the curve of his arm and smiling when he immediately pulled her close, their limbs tangling naturally.

"How many people do you think we woke up this time?" She whispered.

Bellamy's eyebrows wiggled mid-yawn. "Not enough." Clarke laughed and kissed his shoulder, easily drifting asleep in the secure blanket of his arms.

She woke in the faint morning light to Bellamy’s lips tracing every knob of her spine, nudging the shirt further up each time. She melted into the mattress, unbearably happy. When he reached her neck, he paused to brush aside her messy snarls of hair, nipping a path to her ear until she mewled into the pillow. Smiling, Bellamy rolled her over beneath him, touching his mouth to her pulse.

“So,” he murmured, deep and rich, “I hear you're a morning person.”

~~~~~~~~

Neither of them could quite walk straight that day. Neither of them cared. After all, it wasn't _their_ wedding.

Yet.


End file.
